This year I'll be taking a page out of Janie's book, so to speak.
***
I need therapy.
Bibliotherapy, to be precise.
I am needing the
inspiration
uplift
warm fuzzies
wit
insight
assurance
enrichment
that can be found between a title page and The End.
In college I took a Children's Literature class. Our teacher introduced us to the idea that books can be medicinal. She followed this information up with several treatments.
Turns out her bowl of porridge proved her "just right."
Every day I left class feeling somewhat cured of whatever was bothering me beforehand.
I became of collector of cure-alls, determined that my future students and children would have the very best antidotes at their disposal.
At some point my personal prescription ran out.
I neglected to refill regularly.
This last Christmas I read A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens.
A wonderful remedy for petty holiday worries.
I now feel my case is more serious than previously supposed.
Therapy must reconvene immediately and incessantly.
I need *healing for life* as they say on my radio.
Of course, this comes as no surprise.
I have strict orders to seek out good literature for the sake of my joy and happiness.
Sadly, this patient requires patience.
Looks like I'm finally coming to.
Thus
my 2nd resolution for this new year [decade, lifetime!]
Read one book a month.
[or so]
A few of the aforementioned *treatments* can be found here, here, here, here and here. oh and here.
and here.
[just for the record, these aren't the ones I am resolving to read. I think I'll be starting with this one. She was calling to me from the shelf today. Guess I'll see what she has to say.]
Bibliotherapy, to be precise.
I am needing the
inspiration
uplift
warm fuzzies
wit
insight
assurance
enrichment
that can be found between a title page and The End.
In college I took a Children's Literature class. Our teacher introduced us to the idea that books can be medicinal. She followed this information up with several treatments.
Turns out her bowl of porridge proved her "just right."
Every day I left class feeling somewhat cured of whatever was bothering me beforehand.
I became of collector of cure-alls, determined that my future students and children would have the very best antidotes at their disposal.
At some point my personal prescription ran out.
I neglected to refill regularly.
This last Christmas I read A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens.
A wonderful remedy for petty holiday worries.
I now feel my case is more serious than previously supposed.
Therapy must reconvene immediately and incessantly.
I need *healing for life* as they say on my radio.
Of course, this comes as no surprise.
I have strict orders to seek out good literature for the sake of my joy and happiness.
Sadly, this patient requires patience.
Looks like I'm finally coming to.
Thus
my 2nd resolution for this new year [decade, lifetime!]
Read one book a month.
[or so]
A few of the aforementioned *treatments* can be found here, here, here, here and here. oh and here.
and here.
[just for the record, these aren't the ones I am resolving to read. I think I'll be starting with this one. She was calling to me from the shelf today. Guess I'll see what she has to say.]
